


Snickers

by mmmdraco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is held hostage at a bank. Somehow, that makes things change for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snickers

Derek scribbled his account number onto the deposit slip, signed the back of the check he'd gotten as his share of stock dividends, and got into line cursing the fact that direct deposit wasn't a thing everywhere just yet. It took a few moments before it was his turn, so he took the time to scowl before pasting on a smile just as he stepped up for his turn. "Hi, I'd like to-"

"Everybody freeze! This is a stick-up!" Derek sighed at the feel of something hard pressed into his back as an arm wrapped around his neck. Really?

A quiet panic was starting at the bank, the teller's eyes wide as she covered her mouth and crouched down behind the counter. Derek let his eyes cast off to the side to see that no one else seemed to be helping in the guy's "heist". Well, in that case... Derek grabbed the man by the arm and flipped him over, his heels thwacking against the edge of the teller counter, and watched as he landed on his other arm, feeling vindicated at hearing the crunch of at least one of the bones breaking. He reached down to grab the gun from the man, but only saw a candy bar laying on the ground. Frisking the man's pockets, Derek growled at him. "Did you just try to rob a fucking bank with a Snickers?" He turned toward the teller and forced himself to calm down a little before speaking. "Have the police been notified?"

Nodding quickly, the woman (Myra, her nametag said) reached up to wipe her face where it was obvious she'd started to cry. "Yeah. They should be here soon."

Derek held up his deposit ticket and check. "Do I need to wait on this?"

She stood up from her chair, looking down at the attempted robber and then back at Derek. "How did you do that and still hold onto those?"

 _Werewolf_. He shrugged instead of saying it, though. "I just didn't want to see anyone get hurt." He glanced at the man writhing on the ground and smirked. "Well, except him."

Smiling brightly, Myra sat back down. "We're not supposed to touch any of the systems until the police get here, but I can get some coffee for you?"

Derek shook his head and leaned against the partition between them. "No, thank you. I'll just watch this creep until they come to arrest him." Myra beamed.

Sheriff Stilinski was the first one through the bank doors, gun drawn but not cocked. "Derek Hale," he said calmly. "Do you make it a point to be involved with everything in this town?"

Scowling, Derek held up the papers in his hand. "Complete coincidence, Sheriff. Also, I didn't hear an ambulance pull up with you, but this guy's going to need one."

Shaking his head, the Sheriff looked down at the man. "Aw, hell. If you assaulted him, I'm going to have to do extra paperwork."

Myra popped up again, leaning her forearms on the counter. "No! He just flipped him once. But, it was amazing. And completely self-defense because the guy tried to use him as a hostage."

With a roll of his eyes, Derek gestured down to him with his free hand. "He had a Snickers bar in his pocket that he pressed against my back and pretended was a gun while he wrapped his arm around my neck. I'm pretty sure Stiles would have reacted the same way in the situation." He paused. "Except that he might have eaten the evidence."

Quietly snorting, the Sheriff put his hands on his hips and nodded. "Okay, Derek. I'm going to let Deputy Parrish take your statement and then you should be able to go. Thank you on behalf of Beacon Hills for your actions today."

Derek nodded and let Deputy Parrish lead him into one of the offices that seemed to have been set aside just for this, glad he hadn't actually made plans for the day other than running errands.

By the time he finished up at the bank, it seemed that news crews had arrived. Derek covered his eyes with one hand, trying to look like he was trying to block out the sun, and made his way through the crowd. Only, it seemed like everyone knew he'd helped. There were a lot of questions. A lot of them. Fortunately, Derek had a lot of practice in ignoring people. He had groceries to buy, anyway.

A few days later, the local media still had it in their heads that Derek was a hero and they needed to write articles and to at least attempt to get quotes. He wasn't exactly being hounded, but people were starting to approach him on the streets to thank him and to ask about how he was so brave. One woman had groped his biceps while asking how much he worked out. He was sick of the scrutiny, honestly, but even more sick of having to act like he couldn't stand the sunlight so that no camera would catch the flash of his eyes. When he ran across Stiles at the gas station, just finishing up pumping as Derek pulled up, he made a decision. "I need your help, Stiles," he said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

Hanging his pump back up on the other side of the island, Stiles leaned around to look at Derek. "Uh... huh?"

"I need someone to be looking at when all of these damned cameras are trying to get a picture of me as some local hero." Derek scowled as he shoved his debit card into the reader, jerking it back out quickly before following the prompts on the screen.

Stiles moved around to lounge next to him, grinning. "Oh, yeah. I saw some of the video on the news." He held his hand over his eyes, moving around shakily. "They're gonna think you're a vampire or something. But, seriously, why me? None of your other wolfy cohorts willing to be seen with you?"

Derek took off the gas cap and shoved the pump in roughly, squeezing the handle. "Because I can actually stand having you around and you have nothing better to do so it benefits you, too."

His mouth hanging open, Stiles held up one finger in protest before closing his mouth and nodding. "I will concede your point only because it's a remarkably astute one. But, you will call me when you need me, not jump in my bedroom window!" He pointed the finger toward Derek, dropping it a second later. "It'll be kind of fun seeing what you actually do all day."

"I do the same kind of things that normal people do, Stiles." Derek sighed and finished pumping his gas, hanging up the pump handle with a roll of his eyes.

Stiles shrugged. "You're assuming I know what normal people do, dude. My point of reference comes entirely from the media and is, therefore, probably ridiculously wrong."

"Just... meet me at my place tomorrow at noon? I want to try that new restaurant on Howard Street and I've got a few errands to run." Derek clenched his jaw, expecting laughter or... something.

He got a grin instead, and Stiles punching him softly in the shoulder. "Got it, dude. And you're paying for lunch!" Derek rolled his eyes again, but nodded as he put his gas cap back on and got in his car.

By the end of the next day, he was already considering just wolfing out and killing a reporter or two. They were acting like paparazzi or something, following him and asking increasingly more intrusive questions. One woman had called him a vigilante and insinuated it was because of what had happened to his family. If it hadn't been for Stiles being there and saying he'd always loved Batman... At least he had Stiles there. Stiles was always moving, always drawing attention. It made Derek feel less like he was the focus of everything. He knew most of the bad things that happened in Beacon Hills weren't the kind of things that could be written up in the paper so that's why there was such extreme focus on him, but it still pissed him off.

Two weeks into his arrangement with Stiles, he was starting to wonder if things were ever going to go back to normal. Or, at least, his normal. He didn't mind it all, though. Stiles made a surprisingly good companion for lunch despite his ability to shove mass quantities of it in his mouth at once. He was smart, almost obnoxiously so, but he also knew enough pointless information that Derek never felt like he had to contribute to a conversation. There was no pressure there. It was... nice. When he went to the library to exchange out books he'd borrowed, Stiles was right there beside him recommending something he'd read from the same section. (The only surprise came in the fact that every time he took home a book that Stiles had recommended, he enjoyed it immensely.) Stiles started picking up his dad's uniforms from the dry cleaner when he realized Derek used the same one, making the experience a little better somehow. He didn't complain or tease when Derek wanted to wander through some of the more eccentric shops downtown, and often ended up buying some knickknack from the old woman who ran the "natural arts" store. Stiles was also good at grocery shopping, seemingly able to find the ripest produce just at a glance and to always spot when Derek's favorite cereal or brand of soup was on sale. It would've been maddening if he hadn't been so distracted by the people still clamoring to know about the "local hero". Instead, it was calming. 

At least, it was calming until they were out for pizza one day because Derek needed an oil change and suddenly there was the Sheriff, standing at their table with a newspaper in hand. "Hello, boys."

Stiles pulled his slice of pizza from his mouth, chewing quickly even as the cheese seemed to form the world's longest string that he finally broke and shoved in his mouth, swallowing roughly a second later. "Hey, Dad!"

Eyebrows raised, the Sheriff dropped the paper in front of Derek. "Something you want to tell me?"

Derek's own brow furrowed as he looked down at the paper, seeing the small local gossip column the Beacon Hills Gazette published and reading over the first entry with increasingly widening eyes. It was a blind item, but it wasn't very blind at all, all but accusing him of having eye sex with the Sheriff's son all over town. "This is..."

The Sheriff put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. "I thought it was a joke at first and went down to the paper office to see what was up. They've got a whole file of photos of the two of you together, you know, just ready for a scandal to hit." He pulled out one of the chairs at their table and sat down. "So, let's discuss the rules for dating my teenage son."

Stiles had grabbed the paper from Derek, reading over it quickly, but looked up at his father's words. "Dad, what? No. You're just-"

"I'm talking to your boyfriend, Stiles. Let me give him the speech and then I'll leave you to lunch. You keep talking and I'm taking the pizza with me." Stiles clamped his mouth shut, but glared at Derek, gesturing toward the Sheriff.

Derek just nodded slowly. "He's eighteen, sir, but we're not-"

"Eighteen just means he's legal. It doesn't mean he's prepared. You go at his pace unless he's going too fast for you, you stop by for dinner sometimes, you make sure he doesn't do anything too stupid if he lets you have a say, and you join the police academy in the fall and come work for me." He smirked at Derek's shocked look. "It's come to my attention that my son's a good judge of character and you're good in a panic situation."

"Yes, sir." Derek nodded a bit too quickly, looking out of place in his own skin. 

The Sheriff stood and nodded, pushing his chair back in and patting Stiles on the shoulder. "It's you, not the burgers, that are going to give me a heart attack." He walked off, leaving the paper on the table.

Stiles looked over at Derek and then back at the paper. "You didn't tell him we weren't dating."

"I-" Derek cleared his throat and took a sip of his water. "Shock, I guess."

Picking up his slice of pizza again, Stiles took a deep breath. "Do you even swing that way?"

"Every relationship I've been in has been something of an interspecies one. Do you really think the bits and pieces are going to be a dealbreaker for me?" Derek pulled a slice of pepperoni off the pizza, shoving it in his mouth to give him something to do other than speak.

Stiles nodded. "We should get going. Your appointment's soon, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Derek nodded and was thankful for the relative silence of getting a box for their pizza and paying, then driving the short distance to the lube shop. He checked in and handed over his keys as Stiles sat down in the waiting room. There was a quick discussion about his air filter and fluids, but it didn't take long. 

Stiles was slumped in a chair when Derek approached, lost in thought, though he looked up a second later and smiled. "Hey."

Derek sat next to him, clutching his hands together. "I guess I should join the police academy. It'll give me something to do during the day other than just wander around."

"You don't have to. I can explain things to my dad tonight and tell him to back off. It'll be no big deal. I don't want you to have to change your life over a misunderstanding, dude. Don't you like things like they are?" Stiles' hands went into his pockets, but his eyes stayed on Derek.

That was the problem, though. Derek did like things like they were. Not like they had been a month before, but like they were now where he could be alone sometimes but not have to be lonely. "I don't want this to end," he said finally, gritting out the words between clenched teeth. "This... with you..."

Stiles grinned suddenly, pulling a candy bar from his pocket and shoving it against Derek's chest. "Then, split this and everything else with me." He smiled softly. "I just want to let you know now, though, that I have zero uniform fetish, so you in khaki polyester is not going to be the thing to make me drop my pants."

Derek took the candy bar and looked at it. Snickers. Of course. He tore open the package, breaking the candy in half and offering Stiles first pick. "I have a feeling you'll just talk yourself out of them."

"Or talk you into mine?" Stiles took a bite of the candy, a stray strand of caramel lingering on his lips for a moment before his tongue darted out to lick it away.

"That..." Derek felt his ears warm from the ideas suddenly racing through his head. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

Stiles nodded happily, reaching over to grip Derek's free hand like it was no big deal. No big declaration, no misunderstandings, no blood drawn. It was nice. Derek took a bite of his own candy and squeezed Stiles' hand. He knew all too well how little things could turn his life around completely. That a candy bar or two had changed it for the better, though... He hadn't been expecting that. Nice was the new normal, though, and Derek thought that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to it after all.


End file.
